Page 43 of Stolen Vows

FRANCESCA

The bellabove the door chimes and I glance up from the stack of new releases I’m shelving. My heart skips a beat when I see Graham step inside, a drink carrier with two iced lattes in one hand and a small white pastry bag in the other.

A smile blooms across my face before I can stop it. “You’re back.” The words come out soft, almost reverent.

Graham’s eyes find mine, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “I said there would be a next time, didn’t I?”

He did, but I didn’t believe him.

Heat rushes to my cheeks at the memory of our last interaction. The way his thumb swiped across my lips, the intensity in his gaze, the unexpected vulnerability in our conversation. It was a lot for a first real meeting. But I find myself wanting more. Craving it, even.

“You did,” I agree, setting the stack of books on a nearby table. “But I wasn’t sure how long you were going to wait this time.” I flash a wink over my shoulder at him.

Romeo trots over to Graham, tail wagging furiously. Graham looks down at him, one brow arched. He shifts the drink carrier to one hand and absentmindedly scratches behind Romeo’s ears, his fingers sinking into the soft curls like it’s second nature.

“I’ve been swamped with work,” he says, giving Romeo one last scratch before straightening. “And I brought these for you.”

I can’t stop the smile that blooms across my face, my heart picking up speed at his unexpected gesture. He remembered. More than that, he followed through. I’m not used to people doing either of those things—not for me.

“You brought coffee.” My voice comes out breathless, almost softly giddy. I take a step closer to him, my gaze drifting from the drink carrier to his face.

He looks unfairly handsome, even in the soft afternoon light filtering through the bookstore windows. His dark hair is pulled back from his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jawline and the intensity of his gaze. He’s wearing a dark blue henley that stretches across his chest in a way that should be criminal, the sleeves pushed up to reveal strong forearms.

Graham’s eyes meet mine, a hint of amusement glinting in their depths. “I did. Iced caramel latte.” He holds out one of the cups to me.

Our fingers brush as I take it from him, sending a shiver of awareness down my spine.

“You remembered.” My eyes feel a little too wide, my smile a little too slow to form.

“I remember everything about you.” His voice is low and smooth, like he’s casually chatting about books and not giving me too many ideas. Ideas that have no business taking root. The last thing I need to do is add fodder to the fire for more dreams about him at night. They’re ridiculous enough as it is.

“Everything?” I breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. I take a sip of the latte, the sweet caramel and rich espresso dancing on my tongue. But all I can focus on is him. The heat of his body so close to mine, the subtle hint of his cologne—something woodsy, a little smoky, like cedar and clove. The way his eyes darken as they dip to my mouth.

“Every detail,” he confirms, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Pulling my gaze from him is difficult, and a flush of heat rolls over me. I clear my throat and pick up two books I need to reshelve. Crossing the store, I ask, “And what do you do for work?” I meant to ask him last time I saw him, but I was distracted by the opening and the cupcakes. God, those were so delicious.

“Security.” His voice is a lot closer than I anticipated.

Though I don’t know why I’m surprised. Because of course he’d follow me across the store, Romeo trotting behind him like the good boy he is.

The warm flush rolls down my neck and settles into my chest as I look at him through a new lens. Broad chest, strong shoulders, the kind of presence that makes a room feel smaller. A man built to take up space and make you notice it.

“Yeah, I could see that,” I say, my voice softer than I intend. I set the books on the counter and move through the motions of closing up for the night.

Graham doesn’t respond right away, just watches me with those keen hazel eyes, like he’s trying to decide how much to say.

“So, who were you protecting?” I ask, arching a brow as I grab my checklist from behind the counter. “Or is that confidential?”

He looks at me, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. Though it’s hard to tell when it’s tucked beneath that close-cropped beard of his. “Not that kind of security. Cybersecurity.”

I swallow hard, shaking my head as if I can dislodge whatever ridiculous thoughts just took root in my brain. “Right. Of course. Yeah. I didn’t think there was a big need for physical security in Avalon Falls, but I am new, so what do I know?” My laugh is a little high-pitched, my voice a little too bright, and I’m one thousand percent sure I’m bright red right now.

Graham chuckles, a low rumble that rolls through me, settling somewhere deep in my stomach. He steps closer, setting the drink carrier and pastry bag on the counter between us. The scent of fresh coffee and sugary glaze drifts in the small space between us, but it’s his proximity that has my head spinning.

He leans against the counter, hazel eyes sparking with amusement as they meet mine. “No, not a lot of call for bodyguards in Avalon Falls. But the cybersecurity threats are everywhere these days.”

I nod, trying to focus on his words and not the way his forearms flex as he shifts, strong and tan against the dark wood of the counter. “That makes sense. I can’t even imagine all the cyber threats out there these days. It’s kind of terrifying when you think about it.”

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